


language of the flowers; on the petals of realism

by Shiice



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blowjobs, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Language of Flowers, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 00:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9853445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiice/pseuds/Shiice
Summary: Competitive beginnings, followed by kisses of innocence and desire - the life of Otabek and Yuri can be described with the meanings of 5 different flowers and the stories that they share.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been playing around with the idea of flower language for a little bit - I thought there was some real artistic possibility in the idea?
> 
> So, that's where this came from. Lets see how this goes.

Springtime weather is probably Otabek’s favorite part of the year.  
  
There are a lot of poetic talks on the matter - how springtime is the time of regrowth and renewal. The time of rebirth and change, a metamorphosis for the world and all of its inhabitants, in some way that definitions will allow. It’s considered the time of year when snow melts and old grudges from the past months dissolve in the wake of spring - in the wake of renewal and change for everything that had previously went sour. Otabek doesn’t think that any of this stuff is wrong, - but he does have different reasons as to why he finds this part of the year particularly enjoyable.  
  
Ever since he was a child, he’d have interest in the plants that grew due to the change of the temperatures - and the direction the Earth axis is tipping in and their distance from the ever glowing sun. He thinks that he’d gotten some of his green-loving influence of this from his Grandmother - a beautiful and kind lady, he remembers. Always taking care and tending to her gardens, - gardens of vegetation and bushes and flowers and trees.   
  
In a way, those early times in his child had influenced him for the rest of his life, he thinks. From those summer afternoon picnics under the heat of the blue crystal sky, to messing around with his sister - spraying each other with water hoses spraying with perhaps a few settings too forceful. Or climbing on jungle gyms in the midst of nature in the background, and everywhere. It's really no wonder why he'd had such an interest in nature.   
  
.  
  
Through the years, Otabek is known to have many diverse and unorthodox passions. His main focus is figure skating and that won’t change, but he’s grown to allow some other contrasting hobbies into his life.

At one point he’d been interested in dancing - that flubbed none too soon since he’d started, he couldn’t get any of the stretches and his muscles were not having any of the footwork that was required, his body was just not made for dancing like others could be. He’d held on to the hope of maybe dancing in the future if he didn’t feel like ice skating any longer - dancing was, a plan B for a young Otabek. Though those dreams immediately become erased when he realized just how not meant for the art that he is. He can’t display those types of skills well - not like that blonde kid’s that he saw during the ballet segment of Yakov’s skating camp. Now, that was a sight to behold if one ever got the chance to witness that.  
  
Since then, he hadn’t remembered the kid’s name, but the presence remained in Otabek’s memories.

Another hobby he’d once been interested in had been, believe it or not, DJing. It was something that nobody had expected from the up-incoming Kazakh skater. Hell, not even him himself had expected something like that. There was on some level, something awkward about seeing the quiet kid that no one ever remembered for too long, being heard for once and being the center of attention with various sounds and noise that could be heard from a while away. However amazingly, that hobby stayed with him a little longer than the rest.

The one that stuck with him though, through the years as he lived his life were flowers. Not flower collecting per se, but, flowers in general. Collecting them, sure. But also studying them, growing them, enjoying them, and all of the rest.

Apparently those summer afternoons with his Grandmother had some lasting impression on him, after all.

No, of course it wasn’t the most boyish thing out there. That actually went quite well for him and his sensibilities, though. Being boyish meant loud, it meant getting attention and displaying aggression if need be, which Otabek really couldn’t quite stand - he was fine with not being boyish - in fact, maybe in some ways, he preferred it, and that’s why one of his hobbies were something that contrasted completely with those traits.

He doesn’t actually apply this sort of thing into his own life though, no, that comes later.

A few years later, and he sees the blonde Russian again, because they’re both skating in the same competition.

Otabek knew from the start that he himself wouldn’t be the best athlete out there. He was even a little shaky on if he thought that he would have been one of the good skaters or not.  

> _Hyacinth; small bulbous flowers, native to the Eastern Mediterranean - signifying abrasiveness, rashness, and agility in sports._

The Hyacinth is a flower in one of the tales of Apollo the Sun God in ancient Greek literature. Now, Otabek doesn’t know much about the story itself, but he does know about the individual Gods and their traits, and decides that he thinks that the flower suits the blonde boy quite well.

Healer to some, executioner to others.

Undeniably, to Otabek, Yuri is a savior.

Yuri gives Otabek motivation in ways that he hadn’t had before. Yuri gives Otabek reasons to keep going, that he was previously blind to.

Otabek, in the past, didn’t have any reason to really keep going on with figure skating for much longer because he was getting older - it was soon his peak, if not already. Every jump he could ever possibly hope to land had already been landed by him, and every record that he set for himself were becoming not quite something to surpass anymore, but rather something to try to achieve once again.

Before he actually got to know Yuri - got to be friends with him, he was on the road to retiring soon, because there was no way that he would be able to keep up with all of the new skaters. All of the new competitors that still had their entire skating career to look forward to - instead of Otabek who was just looking for a final ‘hurrah’ to what was left of it.

But Yuri. That loud, cutting edge - foul languaged bitter person.

That person - also bright, supporting and kind, strong as all of the fires of the sun, is what keeps Otabek skating longer. He reminds him of why he enjoyed skating in the first place, and gives him new reasons to want to continue with it now.

Because they’re friends now, ever since the competition in Barcelona, Otabek doesn’t want to say goodbye now. So he skates, and tries to make it on the medal podium this time around. He wants to be next to Yuri Plisetsky as the Russian undeniably skates beautifully - as the blonde gets gold.

Because being next to him in some way means having a reason. That, he can settle with.  
  
“Good job. Hey Beka, you’ll compete again soon also, right?”  
  
When they’re in the same country - as in, when Otabek leaves Kazakhstan under the pretense that skating in Russia this time would do better for training - because that really isn’t a lie. Russia is almost near known for skating. At the very least, they’re known for their ice - and Otabek’s coach isn’t stupid. He’s no idiot, he can see that Otabek’s skills are fumbling and losing their touch. That his previous triple axel that he used to land well most of the time is now more often than not having the outcome of a two-footed landing, or sometimes, not being fully rotated. He’s even making rookie mistakes that a 13 year old would make; doing things like taking off on his lutz on the wrong edge, or not getting the timing right on his flying camel when timing is everything.  
  
It’s this, among other things, that make it apparent to Otabek that if he wants to continue this, even for a little bit more, that something needs to change - and fast. Because he’s losing his edge (no pun intended), and if he wants to keep on with this sport for longer, even for a little bit more, something different has to happen.  
  
Thanks to that, it’s his coach that offers Otabek the possibility to practice in Russia, at least for a little while. To which, he accepts. He has no reason to deny, and every reason to welcome the opportunity.

It’s mindless how much of a no-brainer the decision is, and how easy the transition is.  
  
As if, maybe all of this was supposed to be.

* * *

If it wasn’t, at least it had a purpose.

> _Chrysanthemum; flowering plants native to Northeastern Europe and Asia - the teller of cheerfulness, and the wonders of friendship._

Yuri’s confused when Otabek suddenly steps foot in Russia. He wasn’t expecting it. Not that he’s complaining - oh no, the exact opposite of that. He’s excited. Grateful- even, that Otabek moved to his home country. He just wasn’t expecting any of this.  
  
They skate at the same rink because they have no reason not to. Russia is a big place, but not big enough when there’s someone that means worlds to you just a little distance away. They don’t have the same coach, because given their competition history would not be the best of plans, but they do skate during similar times on the ice, which satisfy both of them to a degree.  
  
They warm up together, they sometimes leave together. They see each other much more than they had before, but there’s a problem that arises out of that.  
  
The longer they spend together, the more they want to be in the other’s presence. It’s a cycle - almost. But Otabek can’t bring himself to be vocal about anything. He’s not used to strong friendships like these. He’s not used to caring so much about someone as a friend, or actually being with another person for that person, rather for another reason to put up a polite front and to act easily compliant for the other person’s benefit.  
  
Being with Yuri, though, isn’t like that.  
  
Yuri's loud and attentive; he’s the type of person that knows what he wants, and does what he has to do to achieve it. His desire to be Otabek’s friend isn’t much different from his desire to win at his qualifying competitions that he’s so used to doing at this point in time.  
  
.  
  
It’s one day, before the rink opens for the morning practice session. Which means, Yuri and Otabek are both about to take off their blade guards to practice jumps and spins for the next hour or two.  
  
In other words, good as time as any.  
  
“Beka, I have something to ask.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“After practice today,” Yuri pauses. “-Or this morning, you feel for going at one of the ice cream stands somewhere around St. Petersburg?”  
  
Otabek smiles at that.  
  
“Ice cream?” He asks. “You’re sure you’re supposed to be eating that?”  
  
Yuri pouts. “Hey, of course it’s fine!” He huffs. “I just turned 17 a few months ago, and I still didn’t do anything to celebrate it. I think deserve something for that, okay?”  
  
Yuri crosses his arms across his chest, wanting at least an answer from the brunette. “But still, what do you think?”  
  
Otabek pretends to think it over, but in truth he’s already made up his mind. He just needs to stall for a few seconds, to make it not seem like he would have said yes to anything - because  anything Yuri asked, he would have agreed to.  
  
Talk about someone having you wrapped up around their small finger.  
  
A few seconds pass. “Alright,” he agrees. “Later today? How about we leave here together, so we don’t have to meet up again later?”  
  
Yuri agrees to those plans, which in turn make Otabek feel nothing but happiness for the entire time while he’s on the ice. Part of him wonders if Yuri’s feeling the same.  
  
.  
  
They walk the streets of the big city - Otabek freely following Yuri to where he goes, because it’s not like Otabek knows any of the city layouts of Russia. And as alright as he is being able to communicate semi-fluently in Russian, that isn’t to say that he’d like to take his chances being stranded in the country’s streets.  
  
They eventually come up to one of the stands to the side of the street, the hard wood and the cloth of the umbrellas above the stand painted in a cool cobalt blue, probably to keep out the sun from the cool nature of the product they were selling.  
  
He watches as Yuri gets vanilla. He does so quickly and easily, as though he’s been here many times before. Or, maybe he’s just that good at communicating with people and expressing what he wants. Something like that.   
  
The attention turns to Otabek.  
  
“Hm? Oh, chocolate, I suppose.”  
  
The Kazakh skater decides that he should take a lesson or two from Yuri.  
  
The rest of the day, both of them just walk aimlessly around the city itself, just being near each other. They don’t go into other stores, because truth be told, they really don’t have much money on them - so they just walk around together and enjoy the day of living that they’re at each other’s sides.  
  
When they started this together, the sun had been high up and beaming down on the people underneath its rays, making the air thick and dizzying with its heat - it wasn’t too much out of place to feel like you could have gone delirious from the temperature itself.  
  
But that was hours ago. They finished their ice creams early on, leaving the leftover residue on their fingertips sticky and sweet. They laugh until the skies are painted with the most beautiful reds and oranges of the sunset, but they don’t do anything about the time that's passed. They don't even acknowledge it, because acknowledging means leaving, and neither of them are ready to do that. So instead, they stall with anything. Everything.   
  
They talk about whatever they can think about; whichever subject first comes to mind.  
  
“What?” exclaims Yuri. “I can’t believe that.”  
  
“I assure you, it’s true.”  
  
“But no - no, it doesn’t fit - you really used to be a DJ?” He can hear the awe in Yuri’s voice as he asks.  
  
Otabek feels the need to correct him.  
  
“I wasn’t a DJ, with concerts or anything, but I would go to some music studios, and see what kind of music I could make there.”  
  
Yuri shakes his head. “Yeah, no - Beka, that’s considered being a DJ.” The blonde takes a breath. “Wow…”  
  
“It’s… not too out there, is it?”  
  
“Are you kidding?” Yuri asks. “Like, no - that’s amazing - I just didn’t think that someone reserved like you would even like loud music, but to know that you like actually mixing together that type of music -” Yuri laughs into the palm of his hand. “It really makes you wonder how much you know about a person, doesn’t it?”  
  
Otabek thinks that it would be the beginnings and ends of heaven and earth to know as much as he can about Yuri, his friend - his friend.

* * *

>   _Ivy, The Sprig of White Tendrils; evergreen and woody plants, native to western, central and southern Europe, Macaronesia and across Northwestern Africa - the teller of affection, and nervous, pleasing hopes for what may come._

“Hmm, Beka, how would you feel if I put your hair into a ponytail one day?” Yuri hums as he’s cuddled next to the older man, resting in between his legs on a lazy-soft couch.  
  
“Hm?” asks Otabek. “What’s with this all of a sudden?”  
  
Otabek’s only response is Yuri turns around to run his hands through the soft, uneven strands of Otabek’s hair. He really should get a haircut, he thinks. One of the joys of preciously having a pronounced side shave.  
  
“Yura, my hair isn’t even long enough to do that.” And it isn’t. His hair is overgrown - yes, but not in ways that would make it easier to tie hair up, like Yuri’s. Blonde and flowing, and a river of soft gold, nothing can really compare to it. Nothing ever could.  
  
“Hey, come on,” The Russian convinces. “It’ll be cute, I swear!”  
  
As if Otabek could disagree - could ever argue against what Yuri asks for especially since it’s just so meaningless. So innocent, too kind. It’s almost endearing to watch the events unfold just for that reason alone.  
  
The brunette smiles. “Alright, fine then.”  
  
“Great!”  
  
Yuri takes a black hair tie that’s been on his wrist the entire time. Sharply sliding it off of his arm before he turns back to Otabek and goes through some effort in trying to gather a clump of hair that won’t fall apart due to the strands being too far apart. The task, is harder than anticipated, but completed soon enough.  
  
“Hey, you look nice like this.” Yuri says, stroking the small, makeshift ponytail to the back of his, neary sticking up entirely because of how short his hair is in comparison to Yuri.  
  
“Somehow, I doubt that.”  
  
“No, I promise,” his hand stops going through Otabek’s hair, coming lower. Now brushing his thumb across Otabek’s cheek with the gentlest touch Otabek’s thinks that he’d ever felt. “I promise.”  
  
The gesture itself, however so small, is beyond intimate. They both know that Yuri doesn’t have much experience with being tender with other people - that this is all at some level, a little different to him. Not to say it doesn’t come naturally - it’s just, it’s different, it’s new. It’s beautiful, and it’s so undeniably Yuri.  
  
Yuri’s eyes are focused on Otabek’s. That is, until they can’t be anymore.  
  
Yuri’s eyes flutter closed as he leans into the touch he has on the older boy. Leaning over and giving Otabek one of the softest presses of his lips to Otabek’s forehead - it’s not the first time Otabek’s been kissed like this by Yuri, but it always seems to melt his heart the way Yuri touches him. The blonde pulls away only seconds later - which is a shame. It’s too soon, in Otabek’s opinion.  
  
“See?” Yuri asks as he pulls away. “Very nice.”  
  
The Kazakh skater shakes his head. “Not as good as someone else I know.” He has to remind himself that they’re still technically talking about hair, but not quite. Not anymore.  
  
Yuri leans his weight into Otabek’s arms, being fully secured by him. “Oh, yeah?” he questions. “I doubt that.” He looks up towards Otabek’s face again. “Can I…”?  
  
Oh.  
  
Otabek doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he only answers in a nod. Even though this isn’t their first kiss together, it feels like it - it still carries that same excitement. That same, heart falling moment of realization that this is happening, and he wants it - they both want this together. However, the thing that Otabek can’t deal with the most is how shyly Yuri handles this with. Partly because of inexperience, and partly because that’s just how Yuri’s always been around Otabek - whether acting as friends or lovers.  
  
And Otabek thinks that that’s probably the most endearing thing in, - ever.  
  
Moments later, leaning in again, cupping Otabek’s cheeks with the softness of his palms, and this time it’s Otabek’s turn to have his eyes flicker closed at the sensations.  
  
The first kiss is hesitant - it’s slow, and it lingers. The rest, however, aren’t.  
  
Because the rest just dissolve to Yuri peppering small kisses to the corner of Otabek’s lip, to one of his cheeks - now wrapping his arms around Otabek’s head to allow him more room to drop sweet kisses to the bridge of Otabek’s nose, his forehead again, and then back to his other cheek. With the small puffs of air between each light kiss, also comes breathy giggles that aren’t quite able to stay bottled up with the continuous onslaught of affection that’s between the both of them.    
  
Eventually, when Otabek decides to take the lead for them both. This time, fully capturing Yuri’s soft lips with his own - feeling the blonde in his arms tremble and melt into his touch the longer he keeps at it. The sweet, pleased sounds that Yuri’s now whimpers only adds to further encourage the older boy.  
  
The only thing is, it’s over too quickly.  
  
There’s a knock on the other side of the door and they stop immediately, both displeased that it ended but not ready enough to face the embarrassment if somebody walked in on the both of them.  
  
“Hello, boys?” They both hear from the other side, and immediately know it’s Yuri’s grandfather. Which, in turn, Otabek should had expected He’s the only other person in this house, after all. “It’s getting late in the afternoon. Would you guys like any tea, or sandwiches, or anything else, perhaps?”  
  
Yuri’s the one that answers.  
  
“S-sure! Just ham and lettuce on wheat, right?” He looks over to the brunette, and Otabek can see flushed soft rosiness of his cheeks and he can’t help but crinkle his lips into a smile at the sight.  “You like that, right? Ham and lettuce is good for you? Right.” Yuri’s stuttering and frantic, and Otabek doesn't blame him. If Otabek were the one speaking, he’d probably exhibit some of those same traits - and that’s saying something.  
  
Yuri’s grandfather chuckles from the other side of the door. “Alright, boys. I’ll be back in a bit.” Then they can hear his steps of his shoes on the stone floor gradually get quieter and farther away.  
  
They don’t do anything too notable for the rest of the day. There’s no way that they really could, when they had almost getting caught by Yuri’s grandfather. Though it might be all for naught - he might already have an inkling as to what’s going on with the Kazakh skater and his grandson. Nevertheless, shyness gets the better of them. They still do the regular things friends do when they have someone over.  
  
They finish the lunch Yuri’s grandfather’s given them not too much later - they play video games - Yuri accuses the other of cheating while playing said video games - all of that, except Otabek catches Yuri’s eyes lingering a few moments, gazing at his lips and his eyes, before he turns away to pretend he hadn’t.

* * *

 

> _Orange Blossoms; flowers that bloom to the Citrus sinenis - notably expressing  fruitfulness, and innocent eternal love._

"So you're sure you want to do this?" Otabek asks. The air is thick.  
  
A small laugh bubbles out of Yuri. "Of course I do."   
  
They both don't know how to do this. In this area, they're both unbearably inexperienced. They're not idiots - they've seen videos, they know how it's supposed to work, they know the mechanics of what they have to do - however, actually going through the motions - that's a whole new thing all together. All there is to do, is to let the flow of their movements guide them, and wish on a star that everything's going to be okay.   
  
Otabek takes Yuri by the hand, guiding them both so they're sitting on the bed in the middle of the room. It's only a little hard to guess where they are because the lights are off, only leaving the small glimpses of light from the window to the side of the room combined with the subtle adjustment of their eyes to the dark, to have any idea of what's happening - which is probably due to the embarrassment that they're feeling. Embarrassment of maybe doing something ridiculous, or doing something just downright wrong. Otabek - truth be told, wishes that they'd turned on the small nightlight to the corner of the nightstand. God, he would give anything to be able to see Yuri right now - right now, with him. But it's fine, Otabek tells himself. Whichever Yuri's actually comfortable with, whichever he decides and wants to do, anything is okay. Anything. Everything.   
  
After Otabek brings them both to the edge of the mattress, Otabek immediately begins kissing the other.   
  
It's not like their early kisses of inexperienced innocence. There's now something more, something deeper. It all together makes everything seem more heavy - more real to the both of them. It's almost difficult for Otabek to not loose himself to the sensations with just this alone.   
  
It doesn't take too long through this for Yuri to start whimpering at his touches, almost melting in Otabek's arms as he continues the onslaught of affection for the younger blonde. The noises Yuri makes only helps to quicken his heartbeat and to make his skin flush at the oncoming heat pulsing through him in subtle waves. Otabek swears that if the lights were on, his skin would have a noticeable pink tint to his normal tanned skin tone. Which is saying something, considering that his colored complexion doesn't even change much when sunburned.   
  
Eventually, the both of them soon change positions. They're still holding on to each other, however now Yuri's laying down. His soft golden strands are sprayed across the pillow in unorderly, perfect directions. Otabek can only tell this because in the back of his mind, he has to remind himself to avoid unintentionally pulling Yuri's hair during all of this.  
  
Again, inexperienced and unpracticed, but Otabek wouldn't change this for anything.   
  
With Yuri under him, he can feel the other begin to get more impatient but the way Yuri's movements were starting to get more frantic and jerked, and how Yuri was weakly trying to tug on the the sleeves of his shirt and the fabric of his clothes.   
  
After a few tugs, Otabek gets the idea and stops kissing him, peeling off the fabric on his own body before reaching to Yuri's shirt. Hesitating a moment before actually dragging the shirt off Yuri. Yuri's shaking hands doing well to help aid in the task.  
  
The only thing that's left is Yuri's light sweatpants.  
  
"Um," the blonde starts. "You know, you can-"   
  
Otabek swears that just hearing the shy, excited nervousness of the other just makes his heart break in the most beautiful way.   
  
"Alright," Otabek replies.   
  
The next seconds are tense as Otabek slowly pulls down the loose fitting pants along with the briefs that Yuri's wearing, allowing his cock to bob free at the absence of pressure. With the actions, Yuri's breathing accelerates and he brings his arm across his face, effectively covering his eyes with his arm.   
  
Otabek softly kisses Yuri before bringing his hand lower, lower, and cupping Yuri''s hardness with his palm.   
  
"This is okay, right?"  
  
"O-of course it is!" Yuri fumbles out. "You don't have to ask - unh - about - ah.." The words start to trail off as he starts to move his hand up and down Yuri's length. Listening for which actions drag the most noise out of him, or the movements that elicit the sharp intakes of breath and the shudders that now rack throughout his body.   
  
Seeing how things are progressing, and how received all of his movements and touches are, he further takes matters into his own hands - pun not intended - and releases Yuri from his grasp. Which Yuri almost groans in defiance about, until Yuri's cock is surrounded by the warmth of Otabek's mouth, which causes him to stutter a surprised moan.  
  
"Ah, Otabek, Otabek oh my gosh, - ahh - Otabek."  
  
Yuri's words are largely repetitive and without much of any meaning other than to further encourage Otabek on. It gives Otabek the courage to pull back and to have his tongue brush across the needy head, feeling Yuri's whole body shudder from the movement. He does the same thing again, and again - he gets roughly the same reactions, but more pronounced. Yuri's whimpers are getting so labored that they could pass off as early sobs if they had been any more rough. In the middle of all of this, Yuri absently thrusts more into the warm cavern of Otabek's mouth. Yuri almost regrets it, but when Otabek's moves to get a different angle and runs his tongue across his shaft, he finds that he isn't happier for anything else except that.   
  
It's hard for Yuri to speak. There's no way that it couldn't be. With his labored breathing mixed in with gut-wrenching stutters and faltering moans, it's a wonder why he hasn't passed out yet, he thinks. Still, he brings himself to. He's losing time.   
  
"O-Otabek," he whimpers, the name rolling off of his tongue louder than he expected it to. He doesn't wait for an answer, rather, he continues. "I'm, uh - close -" he has to bite down on his lip to keep from moaning while he speaks.   
  
It's meant to be as a warning, Yuri's expecting Otabek to pull off and finish him off with his hands, at the very least - he doesn't think that Otabek would enjoy getting completely messy due to their actions. What he doesn't expect is Otabek moving back to the head, licking all of the sensitive spots of him again. Thanks to that, it doesn't take long for his toes to curl and from him to cry out at it all.   
  
A few minutes in the dark, is what it takes for him to come back to himself.   
  
It also takes his mind that long to come to the realization that Otabek's most likely feeling the same thing.  
  
Or, at least, he hopes.   
  
"Hey, Otabek?" He asks into the darkness.   
  
"Hm?" His voice is quieter than normal, Yuri notes.   
  
"Uhm, if you want me to - you know -" If only it weren't so difficult actually saying the embarrassing things. Gosh.   
  
A small chuckle. "Yes?"  
  
Damn it, he knows this is hard for Yuri.   
  
"If you, well, want me to return the favor- that wouldn't- ugh." He can feel his face just turn a few shades darker besides already being tinted with pink from the actions before.   
  
Otabek takes the lead from there. "You want to suck me?"  
  
"I-I wasn't going to phrase it like that! Ugh-"   
  
Another small chuckle. "Is that what you want?"  
  
Yuri begins to nod while mumbling a quiet 'yes'.  
  
There's really no possibility of Otabek denying Yuri like this when he already seems so vulnerable.   
  
.  
  
They're both tired out and laying on the same bed, side by side. The lights are back on now, because there's no reason to keep them off - besides the fact that it's now late at night. Still, they can't bring themselves to turn it off quite yet. They don't want to actually go to sleep quite yet - no, they want to keep this in their memories. They want this to last. The future is unknown, and no one knows what exactly might happen. At least the present is safe and kind to them.   
  
Otabek turns over to Yuri, who is looking back to him.   
  
"Your face is still red," he remarks. "It's adorable."  
  
"Shut up!" The other hisses. "It is not, it's annoying - one of the blessings of pale skin, you know?"   
  
"Ah," Otabek reaches over and brushes a strand of Yuri's hair away from falling in front of his eyes. "Nope, it's nice. Like rose color, I think."  
  
Yur's nose crinkles. "Huh? Rose?" A pause. "Wait - isn't that, like the flower of love or some shit?"  
  
Otabek nods.  
  
"Oh my god. That's cheesy, even for you."  
  
"Is it? I thought it was pretty accurate."   
  
And it is cheesy, but that's fine. It's them, and it's now.  
  
"...I guess. Yeah, it is."  
  
And Otabek hopes that it will forever be. 


End file.
